I'm Not Crazy
by Ein Kampf kann eine Lebenszeit
Summary: Alice, as a young girl, doesn't quite know what she's done in life to deserve the bad treatement from her mother. Her father is accepting, but as she grows older her understanding grows. Alice human fic, please read and review. Much appreciated.


"You know, mother, you really should take more care with Cynthia," Alice said quietly. She didn't know for sure, but she did have a feeling that something bad was going to happen. She had had these feelings before, and had warned her mother, but every time it happened her mother scolded her, telling her not to speak of any such thing again.

So Alice had taken to speaking of those such things, only she said these things under her breath. Occasionally her mother would hear her and scold her, but more often than not, she was ignored.

It had been that way her entire life. She would tell her mother to be more careful when cutting the chicken for that night's meal, and her mother would slam down the knife and say, "Mary Alice, that's enough of you. Nothing bad is going to happen. You can't know such thing and I do not mishandle sharp objects while in the kitchen!" After she would pick the knife back up Alice would drop her little cup full of milk and her mother would curse under her breath and forget about the knife, slicing her finger while she picked the cup up. Alice would then be sent to her room until dinner was ready.

At first Alice didn't know what she was doing was wrong. She saw it as she was trying to help her mother. She didn't want her mother, or father, to be hurt. She loved them both and, to her knowledge, they loved her. But more often then not they showed distaste for her, especially when she spoke out in public, instead of their love.

The first time Alice was scolded in public was when she, her mother and her father were at the local grocery store. A lady was looking at the cartons of milk, and Alice had skipped up to her with a smile on her face saying to come back to the milk after the lady had gotten everything else. The lady questioned her, and little Alice replied with, "You'll get sick if you put it in your basket now, miss." Her mother heard her daughter's voice and rushed over immediately.

"I'm so sorry, miss. My daughter does not know what she speaks of most of the time," her mother had said over and over again. The lady said it was quite alright, that Alice was a small girl and hadn't yet learned the ways the world should work in, and proceeded to put the milk in her basket.

"Mary Alice, do not run up to strangers and start conversations with them. And certainly not in the milk isle," she said, taking Alice's wrist in her hand and leading her too Mr. Brandon. Alice had protested, saying the lady would get sick if she didn't put the milk back. Her mother responded with, "There is no earthly way you could know that child," and told Alice to stay silent for the rest of the outing.

The following week the lady from the store had fallen deathly ill.

Alice, now fourteen, remembered that event vividly. Over the following years she had told certain people not to do certain things. One, her best friend's mother, she told not to remarry the man she was currently seeing. The mother had ignored her, and though he seemed to be a good man, soon after the marriage he started beating Alice's best friend. Alice was forbidden to ever see that friend again.

She also remembered the day she would be getting a younger sibling. She was uncharacteristically happy one day, and her parents had decided to tell her then. When asked to sit down, Alice did so, and her parents looked at each other, silently communicating the question, "Do you want to tell her?" but Alice spoke first.

"When is she coming?" she had asked innocently. Her mother, whose hands were holding each other, looked at her curiously. Her father asked her, "When who is coming, dear?" Alice had always favored her father more than her mother. Her father was a level headed man. He loved keeping up appearances, something that later drove Alice out of the family.

"My baby sister," Alice said, again, innocently. She was confused when her parents looked at each other in confusion, but waited silently for an answer. Her father bent down to her level and looked her in the eye as she smiled sweetly. She was only four, so she was obvious as to most of the things in this world, which is why her parents were so confused.

"Alice, honey, we don't know if it's a boy or a girl yet, and how did you know about mommy being pregnant?" he asked sweetly. He had a smile on his face while Alice's mother had a look of shock on her own. She wasn't good at covering her emotions.

"I saw it," Alice said, now looking confused. Hadn't her parents seen the three of them looking at the little baby girl Alice's old crib upstairs while she slept? She certainly had and didn't understand how they hadn't seen it. "We were all looking at her upstairs," she continued, pointing to the ceiling with her small hand.

"Alice," her father said kindly. He only ever called her Alice, he liked that better than Mary, "there is no way you could have seen that," he continued, taking her small, four-year-old hands in his. She shook her head.

"I saw it, daddy," she insisted. He shook his head in defeat.

About seven months later Alice, her mother and father were surrounding a crib. Alice was being held on her father's hip, and her mother had her hands crossed over her heart. On her face was absolute joy. After standing at the crib with the newest addition to the Brandon family they put Alice in her bed. That night Alice heard her mother speaking to her father.

"Hopefully Cynthia will be normal," she said. Alice didn't understand what her mother meant by normal, but she paid no mind to it and went to sleep.

And now, Cynthia's tenth birthday, Alice finally understood what it meant to be "normal." It was something she wasn't. There were children of all ages at the party. They had bought a pool, one of the inflatable ones that one would think wouldn't be able to cause anyone harm.

Alice was in her room at the time, writing in her journal. She mainly kept to herself now that her younger sister got all the attention. She was writing when she decided to go downstairs to get something to eat. Just a piece of bread or some cheese was all she wanted. She had never been one for sweets. As she was reaching in the bag for her bread she stopped suddenly, her entire frame going rigid. Seeing as everyone was outside, no one noticed.

They only noticed when Alice came running outside and towards the pool. She pulled the toddler out and turned to scold the baby's elder sibling.

The yard went quiet. Alice, after she was done, stood up and straightened her dress. She had never seen any of the people before, but she walked to the child's parents and handed them the baby, then returned to her room. Her mother was appalled, and her father excused himself from the company of the guests.

"Alice, what was that?" he asked softly. She was in her room, crying, her journal discarded on the floor.

"He was going to kill her," she said quietly through her tears. Her father didn't know what to say to this, but made his way to his daughter nonetheless. On his way he picked up her journal and the pen. He set them on her bed and bent down in front of her.

"She was playing in the water, no one was going to hurt her," he said. Over the years he had become accustomed to soothing Alice when she had fits like these. They had taken her to specialists, but no one knew what was wrong. The all said to tell her that there was no way she could have known what was going to happen, and Alice's mother had lost all interest in her first daughter.

"But he planned it. He was going to hold her under," she said. Her knees were drawn up around her chest with her arms around them, and her forehead resting on her knees. She didn't move. Her father, who had tried to be understanding, but whose patience had been worn thin only ruffled her hair and returned downstairs.

When she turned sixteen she began to have more of her fits, as the doctors had come to call them. She would act out, screaming sometimes, if something bad was going to happen and no one would listen to her. Cynthia would often talk to her, but their mother forbid that after Alice had become violent with her.

Alice hadn't meant to do so. She simply told her mother not to cross the street at that time, but her mother hadn't listened to her, so she grabbed the back of her shirt and pulled her back onto the sidewalk. A few seconds later a car had gone by speeding. Alice's mother, though terrified, was angered. Alice hadn't left the house since.

Alice complained of people killing others, and sure enough, within the next few days there would be a murder announced in the paper. Her father had stopped being kind. He loved Alice still, and so he had chosen to exile her from the world and his family. It hurt him deeply, but he was always assured by his wife that it was for the better.

Then one day, suddenly and completely unexpected, Alice was quiet. She didn't say anything. Didn't make a sound. Her father walked in her room for the first time in thirteen months. She was on the corner of her bed, tracing invisible patterns on the wall.

"What's wrong?" her father asked. She didn't flinch. She had known he was coming.

"You're sending me away. Not soon, but in a while," she said monotonously. This took her father off guard.

"We would never do that, Alice," he said. Yes, they had considered putting her in someone else's hands, but they didn't know she had found out about it.

"Please don't lie to me, father," she said sullenly. She had never called him father, and he knew he was no longer welcome in her life.

He went downstairs to speak with his wife. He told her that Alice knew they were going to send her away, and that he thought they should act more quickly than they had been.

The next day they went up to Alice's room to find her single bag packed with one pair of clothes, her journal, and three pens. She was standing, waiting for them. Her father, about to ask why she only had one bag packed, had his questioned answered.

"This is all they'll let me have," she said indifferently. "And you'll be outside waiting for me," she finished, walking through them and down the stairs. She led them to the asylum and when they reached the office, she didn't say goodbye, she just followed the lady who was waiting for her. Before she reached the door, though, she turned back and looked at the floor before her mother and father. In a quiet voice she said, "I'm not crazy," then turned and walked away. Her mother and father then went to have a tombstone made.

At the asylum she was put in a dark room, save for the times when the people working there did multiple test to see what was wrong with her. She hardly ever spoke, and over the first year she stopped eating. She would sit in the corner of her darkened room and say nothing. Occasionally there would be screams coming from her room, but the attendants learned to ignore them.

After Alice had been there two and a half years she was taken care of by a new nurse. This nurse, though elderly, it seemed, was nice to her. She hadn't seen many people in her life, but she knew enough to know that this man was one every person on the planet would consider beautiful. His eyes were always red, but Alice assumed she was just imagining that.

He would feed her. And he would let her clean herself in peace. He would hold her hand as they asked her to step on the scale. The last weight they took was seventy five pounds. She was short for the time, four feet, ten inches, but seventy five pounds was dangerous. She was frail, and had to be carried everywhere.

Her angel, as she had come to call him, would carry her everywhere. He would always smile at her and tell her everything was going to be alright.

One night he put her in her room, her favorite corner, and closed the door for the night. He regretted her not being able to always be out of her room. He knew she would be kept in the black confines of those walls, and he always wished he could change that for her.

He knew he could, but he feared he wouldn't be able to control himself. He would also never put a human through the sort of pain he had endured all those years ago. This was his reasoning, and he was going to stick by it.

That was, until, another one of his kind came and threatened the girl whose existence he loved. He had smelt the other one in the halls of the asylum, and followed the scent to his little Alice's room. There he saw the other one of his kind at the end of the hall.

After that everything was fast. The elder vampire was in Alice's room immediately after that, and not a second later he had her in his arms and was carrying her out of the building, the other vampire just behind him. Alice had wakened and looked around her. She saw it was dark out, only the lights from the asylum were on.

"What's happening?" she asked, confused. The one carrying her told her that she was going to be in pain, but after that she could escape from everything. She wouldn't have tests performed on her anymore, and she wouldn't be stuck in the dark. Not entirely. She only nodded her head, confused by everything. The vampire who had been following had backtracked, no doubt after hearing the conversation.

He took Alice to the cabin he had built and put her in one of the corners, knowing she loved the corners. She had gone back to sleep and he was thankful for that. He leaned in to her neck and bit down as softly as he could manage. Before too much blood could enter his mouth he pulled away. He knew it had worked because her eyes opened immediately. A few minutes later she started crying, telling him to take the fire away. He shook his head and walked out of the cabin.

Alice didn't scream, yell, or thrash once. She stayed in her curled up position and wept for three days.

When she opened her eyes she didn't know where she was. She was alone, and she was scared. She looked at her surroundings. She didn't know how she had gotten there, she didn't know who she was. She walked to the door and pushed it gently. It broke as she pushed it too far back. She looked at it with shock, but continued walking. She was in a forest, and some sunlight filtered down through the tree tops. She looked at what she was wearing and saw that her white arms were throwing rainbows. She quickly went back inside the cabin.

She walked around, not knowing anything. She tried to remember, but nothing came. After ten minutes of thinking and trying to remember, something came to her, but she knew it wasn't normal. Her current atmosphere disappeared and she saw a man, extremely tall, with blond hair. He had red eyes and scars on his face, and she instantly knew he was handsome, and she knew she wanted to meet him.

Over the years she learned what she was and how to live that lifestyle. She picked it up quickly. She had also become accustomed to her visions, as she called them. She got them frequently and used them to help her live without much trouble. She was happy that she frequently got to see the tall blond male she had first seen all those years ago.

Her excitement shot to the sky when she received a vision of him standing in a diner in some stormy city, and her holding her hand out to him. She knew at that moment that she suffered through the blackness and the pain, and the fear for him, and when she finally got to meet him, she would never let him leave her sight.

She knew this.

She wasn't crazy.

**I know, not the most creative thing ever, but on my word it was like, seven pages. I was like, "Not bad for thirty minutes." Anyway... I know there are Alice human life fics out there, but I think mine is somewhat different. I dunno. Let me know what you all think of it.**


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